


Sugar High

by Urania_baba



Series: Songs of Skyrim [3]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Accidental Drug Use, Established Relationship, M/M, Ritual Drug USe, sex under the influence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 17:48:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13195359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Urania_baba/pseuds/Urania_baba
Summary: For those not familiar with The Elder Scrolls games, here'sa page of the Wiki explaining about KhajiitandMoon Sugar.These are about the Divines mentioned:DibellaandMara, in case someone wants to know a bit more what it was about Emil's offerings at the end.All in all, I hope you enjoyed the read ;)





	Sugar High

They sat at the table in J'Lalli's room at the Winking Skeever, sharing a late dessert after having luckily escaped the social obligation of drinking themselves to Oblivion with the rest of their unit, who were, at the moment, engaged in increasingly rowdier songs and harassing the new Breton barkeep downstairs. Emil felt content to nibble at a sweet roll, drinking from the hot, sweet cider Reynir had included, and to watch J’Lalli fuss over the assortment of sweets.

“You should--” he hesitated. “You should put some sugar on them,” he finally said, his voice quiet, and J’Lalli stilled, a wondering look making its way into his face; one that perfectly mirrored the expression that the Khajiit had worn when Emil (nervous and sweaty palmed; unsure about how it would be received) had presented him with a gift of Moon Sugar.

“... Just a bit, yes...” J’Lalli mused. “This one wants to make it last.”

J’Lalli retrieved the box (oh, so carefully cradled in his hands, close to his chest, as if holding something precious; Emil’s chest ached just to remember that fragile, open look his lover had given him, burrowing his tender regard for the roguish scout even deeper, scarily close to his throbbing heart) and after some deliberation, sprinkled a pinch of the powdered Moon Sugar over the apple pie on the table and a couple of sweet rolls. After he had eaten so little at dinner (which they had stiltedly spent with Emil’s relatives), Emil was a bit reassured to see J’Lalli eating the sweets with such gusto; with steadiness and relish bordering on reverence, despite having to be famished.

The hour grew late and the patter of the rain outside grew louder. Emil was not happy with the prospect of having to leave the warm room and go back to his uncle’s house, but he didn’t want to impose anymore; he had done enough of that for one day with dragging J’Lalli with him.

When J’Lalli sat back on the chair, purring in contentment, pie and sweet rolls polished away, Emil slowly sat up, “I should go,” he said.

The goodbye died on his tongue, unuttered, when J’Lalli got up after him, crowding into his personal space. “Stay,” he purred, a bit breathless. It made Emil’s knees feel weak.

He hummed in pleasure when their lips met in a kiss, “Sweet…” he remarked, and opened his mouth to let J’Lalli’s tongue inside.

“Help me take this off,” Emil said when they broke apart, referring to his armor. Having J’Lalli help would make it easier to remove his pauldrons and breastplate. He’d have to make extra maintenance because of the rain, but that was a problem for the morrow, and J’Lalli’s insistent mouth called his mind to distraction.

They undressed down to their tunics and ended up sitting on the bed, exchanging unhurried kisses.

Emil sucked on J’Lalli’s tongue, moaning into their kiss; he brought his hands up to his lover’s face, stroking the soft fur of his cheeks, sinking into J’Lalli’s hair, marveling at the feel of the light colored locks between his fingers. He wanted to tighten his grip, to pull, wondering what kind of sounds such a deed might provoke; J’Lalli chose that moment to break the kiss and rub his cheek with Emil’s own, effectively distracting him with the feeling the soft fur elicited.

“Mmn, feels nice,” he hummed.

He let his hands wander to the exposed fur of J’Lalli’s arms, stroking down and then back up, marveling at the feel of the fur against the skin of his fingers and palms. He leaned closer, encircling J’Lalli with his arms, dragging his hands down his back; he made a sound of protest when the texture of the tunic didn’t feel satisfactory enough.

“Take this off,” he demanded, pulling at the red fabric of J’Lalli’s tunic.

J’Lalli chuckled against Emil’s throat, sending shivers down his back, rising bumps all over his skin, “Impatient tonight, mm?” he asked before he used his raspy tongue to lick from Emil’s collarbone up to the sensitive spot just below his ear.

Emil whimpered and climbed onto J’Lalli’s lap, arching his body and throwing his head back, simultaneously trying to get as close as possible to J’Lalli’s body and baring his throat to the mercy of J’Lalli’s mouth. One of J’Lalli’s arms snaked around Emil’s waist for balance and slowly lowered them to the bed, covering Emil with his body, pinning him down with his weight, settling between his legs.

“Please take it off,” Emil insisted, rubbing his thighs against the fur of J’Lalli’s legs between his own, pawing at the fabric of his lover’s tunic in an effort to get under the coarse cloth.

“Very well,” J’Lalli conceded. “But it’s only fair you remove yours as well, no?” J’Lalli purred, stroking up Emil’s thigh, under the red cloth of his tunic and over the swell of his ass. “It’s very selfish to deny this one the sight of your body spread for J’Lalli, yes?”

The words sent heat through Emil’s body, he felt ablaze with excitement. J’Lalli sat back and started pulling the tunic over his head. He followed suit, wriggling out of his own offensive tunic and leather undergarments. He wanted to feel his lover’s body all over himself as soon as possible.

“Come here,” Emil pleaded when they were finally naked, closing his legs around the other’s waist, pulling him down on him with both arms hooked over his neck. He surged under J’Lalli rubbing himself as much as possible against his lover's body, “You feel so good!” Emil moaned, dizzy with sensation.

J’Lalli kissed him breathless, moving with him, in sync with Emil’s rocking hips, purring into Emil’s mouth when Emil’s hands kept wandering; petting, ruffling, scratching. Emil felt light headed, dizzy, adrift, J’Lalli his only anchor amidst the ebb and flow of the pleasure assaulting him. Bright flashes of pleasure burst in his mind like fireworks, behind his tightly shut eyes, with the soft drag of the sharp edge of J’Lalli’s fangs on Emil’s throat, with every stray prick of J’Lalli’s claws, every lick of that raspy tongue.

The light was turning into fire, sparks and embers that were slowly catching flame. J’Lalli held him down, pinned him with his own body, and it took a moment for Emil’s addled mind to realize he was keening, sobbing, begging with mindless, wordless sound, fighting J’Lalli’s grip, desperate for movement, friction, something; _anything_.

“Please,” Emil begged, and the sound didn’t feel like it was coming from his lips at all, distant and muffled as if through rushing water; he couldn’t find the words to beg for what he wanted, needed, inside the echoing cacophony of light and desire inside his brain. “J’Lalli, please, I can’t-- I need-- please, just-- please please _please_ \--”

“Shhh,” came J’Lalli’s voice, his purr rumbled through Emil’s own chest, closely pressed to his own, “let J’Lalli take care of you, mm, pretty one?”

Emil felt his face burn up with those whispered words, felt the heat spread down his chest, pooling low in his crotch, in his aching cock.

“Beautiful one,” J’Lalli was saying, making Emil’s head spin with his rumbling voice and his kisses and his touch. “Precious one,” Emil’s wrists were being held in one of J’Lalli’s hands, and the other one descended to tease his skin with the tips of his claws.

“J’Lalli…” Emil sobbed, tried to arch into those teasing claws, wanted to feel them sinking in.

“Shhh, dearest mine,” J’Lalli soothed, “this one will give you everything you ask for, but in time, yes? Patience,” he added, and used his claws to tease Emil’s nipples into hardness.

“Divines!” Emil groaned, biting back the shout building in his throat, feeling the delicious burn of almost pain from J’Lalli’s ministrations.

He shifted back, and before Emil could protest, he leaned down and took a tender nipple into his mouth, ripping a high-pitched sound from Emil that, in any other situation, would have been enough to fill him with mortification. 

J’Lalli, however, didn’t stop there. Slowly, agonizingly so, he traced a lazy path down Emil’s quivering chest and stomach, delighting in making him squirm.

He let go of Emil’s wrist and used both hands to hold him down by the hips, shifting back, leaning down to lick a trail of fire up Emil’s cock.

Emil’s voice left him in a shout, hands grasping at the bedding in a desperate attempt to find some purchase, some leverage to let him thrust into every slow caress from his lover’s rough tongue; J’Lalli’s hold on his hips didn’t allow it, though, no matter how much he strained and twisted.

All that was left was beg.

“Let me come, please!” So begging he’d do. “Please, love, please!”

J’Lalli’s purr deepened into a rumble, and with a last lick on Emil’s cock he sat up.

A desperate whimper escaped from Emil, “No, please, don’t stop!” he pleaded.

“Soon,” J’Lalli reassured, bringing Emil’s hands up to his lips to place tender kisses on his wrists, his knuckles; licking and sucking in two fingers into his mouth and getting them wet to afterward guide them down. “Start getting ready for J’Lalli, yes?”

“Oh…” Emil said, feeling heat travel down his face, down his throat, and he let his wet fingers find his hole, pushing them in, gritting his teeth and riding out the initial pain.

J’Lalli sat back, took hold of Emil’s legs and spread them wider, his gaze intent on the blond’s display. “Yes, good. Keep going while this one gets the oil.”

Emil whimpered again and did his best with just spit, squirming at the burn, the rough drag of his calloused fingers going in and out; he slowed down the pace when it started to dry, but then J’Lalli was back again between his legs, dripping oil over the place where Emil’s fingers disappeared into his own body.

The third finger went in smoothly, with a heavy exhalation from Emil’s part and a pleased purr from J’Lalli’s. He was tempted to add a fourth once the burn receded, but J’Lalli was tugging at his wrist, making him pull his fingers out, leaving him stretched out and empty.

“This one will fill you up; no need to fret, sweetest one, darling one,” J’Lalli said, pushing into him, crooning endearments he poured over Emil like peppering kisses.

Emil clutched at him, holding on tightly; the only reason he couldn’t scream was because he hadn’t enough breath in him to do so.

J’Lalli’s pace was deep and relentless, made Emil’s head spin, his voice crack with every mindless plea; he felt swept away by a current, his desperate hold on J’Lalli the only thing to keep him afloat.

For the briefest of moments, in the push and pull of their bodies, the rhythm of their movements, he thought of the moons, dancing together in the sky.

He moved with J’Lalli, pressed himself as close as possible, closer, holding tighter, tighter, and less than half-remembered words spilled from his mouth; pleas and all sorts of embarrassing sounds, giving back terms of endearment he had never dared to voice before. “Oh, beloved!” he sobbed, he keened, sounds of pleasure growing higher in pitch and louder in sound, “Oh, oh! Yes, yes, please! So close! Please! My moon, my all!”

J’Lalli made a wounded sound, it would have alarmed Emil had he not been otherwise occupied with J’Lalli picking up the pace immediately after. He was merciless.

Pleasure seared through him, scorching trail blazers that just burned and burned, higher and higher until he couldn’t take it anymore. This time there was enough air left in Emil’s lungs to scream. A starburst exploded in his head, behind his eyelids, a white nova that left darkness in its wake; ringing silence. He drifted and floated and sank.

***

Emil floated in that delicious place where dreams receded but reality remained at bay. He didn’t wish to wake up, but the sounds of the busy people outside, the cries of the crows and the seagulls, were already beginning to intrude in his peaceful bubble.

He groaned, buried his face deeper into the pillow and languidly stretched, enjoying the pull in deliciously sore muscles. There was a chuckle and a warm hand stroked down the curve of his back; Emil hummed in contentment and moved into the caress, arching. He thought of the way he must look for J’Lalli like this, sleep-warm and disheveled and responsive to his every touch.

“This one was beginning to think you would dream the day away,” said J’Lalli in a soft, hushed voice, his hand sliding back up, coming to rest between Emil’s shoulder blades, rubbing with an absent-minded motion.

“Mmm,” hummed Emil, not quite coherent enough for speech yet, and sidled closer to J’Lalli’s warmth. That same hand found its way into what had to be an amazing bedhead, Emil thought, and combed slowly through his hair, coaxing soft sounds from him with the careful motions.

He almost slipped back into sleep, but he found himself swimming into wakefulness when J’Lalli began speaking again. “Sometimes,” he said, and his voice was quiet in contemplation, “you are like the sands of Elsweyr, like the swaying grasslands of this one’s memories: bright and sparkling under the sun...” Emil fought to remain still despite the quickening beat of his heart, afraid to open his eyes and have this moment dissolve like a dream.

“J’Lalli thinks of this, of taking you back to Elsweyr with him and showing you the sands and the tall grasses; of taking you to the markets in Dune and dressing you in fine gifts of silk and brocade, of braiding jewels and flowers in your hair…”

J’Lalli trailed off, and Emil found himself opening his eyes to helplessly stare back into his lover’s intent ones. A slight smirk curled J’Lalli’s lips, caressing Emil’s cheek with a knuckle, making him aware of the heat of his blush.

“The sugar makes this one’s tongue loose with the contents of this one’s heart,” he continued, and Emil’s chest felt ready to burst. J’Lalli paused, betraying his hesitation with an in-drawn breath before adding: “What J’Lalli wants to know is if your own tongue betrayed your heart, as well, or if it was just the sugar you accidentally tasted talking.”

“What do you mean?” Emil said, voice still raspy after his vigorous use during their lovemaking, “I didn’t have any--” The memory of a sweet tasting kiss surfaced, the first one of their wild night, “Oh…”

J’Lalli pulled back into himself, leaning back, carefully lifting his hands away, and Emil sat up in panic, grasping at his lover’s retreating hands. “I didn’t realize!” He said, trying to pull J’Lalli back to him. “It wasn’t the sugar,” he continued, voice falling in volume, softening, “I already felt like that…about you...” He forced himself to look into J’Lalli’s eyes despite his embarrassment and his trepidation, “I meant every word I said.”

There was a glimmer in J’Lalli’s blue eyes, and Emil had just a moment to take note of it before his love briefly kissed his lips, almost chastely, nuzzling nose to nose, cheek to cheek, and purring loudly when Emil melted into the caress.

“Sweetest one,” J’Lalli murmured, and Emil’s face blazed with heat, his whole body shivering. He would have liked to return the loving words, but they got stuck in his throat, so he wrapped his arms around J’Lalli’s waist and pressed close, leaning his forehead on J’Lalli’s shoulder.

“Beloved,” he whispered back, at length, and hoped it made J’Lalli’s heart soar as high as his own.

***

The next morning dawned bright and crisp, chilled with the last rain’s humidity. Emil left for Castle Dour a few minutes before roll call, arms loaded with a basket. His entrance to the courtyard was met with a few whistles and catcalls from members of his unit already there.

Cheeks ablaze, and hoping the early cold could explain the redness blooming on his cheeks, he purposely strode to the Temple of the Divines.

He returned Freir’s greeting with a bit of a stiff nod and made a beeline for Dibella’s alcove, placing the basket, full with a jug of cider, apples and lavender, at its feet.

“Thank you,” he whispered, “for all your blessings, my Lady.”

He took a moment to silently place a small jar of honey at Mara’s shrine on his way out. He could hear Sigrun calling everyone into formation already.

**Author's Note:**

> For those not familiar with The Elder Scrolls games, here's [a page of the Wiki explaining about Khajiit](http://en.uesp.net/wiki/Lore:Khajiit) and [Moon Sugar](http://en.uesp.net/wiki/Lore:Moon_Sugar).
> 
> These are about the Divines mentioned: [Dibella](http://en.uesp.net/wiki/Lore:Dibella) and [Mara](http://en.uesp.net/wiki/Lore:Mara), in case someone wants to know a bit more what it was about Emil's offerings at the end.
> 
> All in all, I hope you enjoyed the read ;)


End file.
